Beginnings
by higginszoo
Summary: Filling in what might have happened between the trio heading home from Hogwarts and Harry leaving the Dursleys' Mostly Ron/Hermione, some Ginny/Harry angst. Mild DH spoilers. Mild language.
1. Arrival

Hermione dragged her trunk and cat carrier out of the taxi and took a moment to compose herself before entering the run-down tavern that the cabbie couldn't even see. She knew she looked a fright … her hair kept escaping her attempt at a bun; her face was blotchy from unbidden tears. It couldn't be helped. She'd done what she'd needed to do, as painful as it was, and now her only thought was to get as far as possible as she could from the world she'd originally left six years ago. Now her only thought was to get to safety, to the warmth and protection of familiar places, to feel familiar arms around her.

She took one last calming breath, looked to make sure that the taxi had re-entered traffic, and entered the pub. Tom the barman looked up as she entered, but she did no more than nod at him before heading to the fireplace. With a firm grasp on her luggage, she threw a pinch of powder into the flames and shouted her destination and disappeared.

In her upset state, the journey was so disorienting, she missed her landing, and tumbled ungracefully to the floor in front of the well-worn hearth.

"Are you all right?" Her best friend helped her up and to a seat at her family's large kitchen table.

"There you are, dear. We were expecting that you'd apparate." Molly Weasley brought a mug of tea and set it down in front of Hermione.

"I didn't want to splinch myself."

"There's a wise girl. Ron told me what you were going to do, poor thing. I'm so sorry, but you're a true Gyffindor, keeping your family safe while you're back at school."

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. Ron obviously had yet to tell his parents of their plans. Not that she could blame him. In some ways, it was easier just to have her parents forget about her than if she'd had to explain to them about her quitting school to go on some adventure to save the world with two boys.

Ginny had let Crookshanks out of his carrier and stashed the basket, and now was starting to take Hermione's trunk up to her room.

"Leave that, dear," called her mother, "one of your brothers can bring it up when they get home. They should be back any minute. They went out to be fitted for dress robes for the wedding," Molly explained to Hermione.

"Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it's nothing, dear. We're glad to have you here. Why don't you girls go wait in the front room where it's more comfortable? We'll have lunch when the boys return."

Hermione almost forgot about her morning as she and Ginny traded gossip about various schoolmates and what they'd heard since the end of term. There wasn't as much gossip as usual, though, and neither Hermione nor Ginny had yet to hear from Harry, who was suffering out his last stay at his aunt and uncle's house, at Dumbledore's request. When the post owl returned her letter, Hermione rang his house, to be informed by Harry's uncle that Harry's cousin was being encouraged to use the owls for target practice with his new air rifle. She sighed. She guessed she couldn't blame the owls, then, for wanting to stay away. As always, his uncle wouldn't call Harry to the phone. But she knew that as difficult as it was for her not to have word of Harry, it was even more so for Ginny. She looked at her friend, who so often seemed to be able to stay young, protected as she was as the youngest in her family. But now she, too, looked older, careworn. This war had taken its toll on all of them already.

The weight of what was before them bore down on Hermione heavily, and she excused herself to walk in the garden. She stood near the fence, watching the gnomes scurry about, mentally going over the list of things she needed to accomplish before they set out on their hunt. In preparing other things, she had yet to study the books she'd retrieved before she'd left Hogwarts very carefully, but from what she'd seen whilst leafing through they contained exactly the information the trio would need for their mission.

Part of her brain registered the raucous noise of the Weasley men returning, then a few moments later, the slam of the back screen door, but mostly, she was intent on her cataloguing project, which was keeping her mind off of the task she completed that morning. Still, she jumped when she felt the large hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry," he pulled his hand back, unsure of what to do.

She looked up for a moment into his clear blue eyes, and all of her resolve to stay strong crumbled as she turned, buried herself in his chest and sobbed. Strong arms wrapped around her, enveloping her as she cried. His fingers weaved through her unrulier than usual locks while he murmured endearments and encouragements to her. Finally, Hermione stood back and looked up at him. "Sorry," she sniffed.

He reached in his pocket for a crumpled handkerchief and handed it to her. "Why?"

"For falling apart like that, I promised I wouldn't."

"Hermione, what you did today was incredibly brave and an incredibly difficult piece of magic on top of it. I can't imagine what it must be like for you, giving up your family."

"While your family is still here fighting the war."

"They've been fighting this war since before I was born. Yours … they wouldn't even have the means to defend themselves, should Death Eaters appear on their doorstep."

"I know I did the right thing by them, but why does it have to be so difficult?" Her brown eyes looked imploringly into his face, as fresh tears sprung from them.

He shook his head and pulled her close to him. "I don't know, Hermione. I don't know. I wish you didn't have to send them away. I almost wish we were going back to school again. I wish this war wasn't getting in the way." His tears were now flowing as well, as their foreheads touched. "I wish this whole war were over, that we could…"

"There you are!" Ron was puzzled by his sister's resentful expression as she approached them. "Mum said she'd sent you out here to get Hermione for lunch. She's wondering where you've got to." Ginny turned on her heel and sauntered back to the house.

Hermione once again wiped her face on the handkerchief. Ron used his sleeve. Then he wrapped his arm around her, and led her back to the house.

After the lunch dishes were cleared, Mrs. Weasley set Hermione and Ginny to wedding preparations. Hermione was magically tying candied almonds into little pastel-coloured tulle bundles, and Ginny was tying the bundles with golden ribbons and arranging them in baskets. Ron came into the kitchen after helping Bill to repair some of the trestle tables. He straddled the bench Hermione was sitting. "You ok now?"

She shrugged and nodded. "I will be. It's just going to take some time to get used to it." She met his concerned gaze and managed a small smile.

"What are these?" He picked up a finished bundle and dangled it from the ribbon, almost untying it before Ginny rescued it.

"They're for the wedding."

"Yeah, so paws off." Ginny scowled at him, scooping the rest of the completed favours into a box and stalking out of the room.

"Do you know what's with her?" He inclined his head toward the door.

"She's worried about Harry." Some of her usual know-it-all tone was returning and he smiled a bit in spite of his confusion.

"So are we all, but why is she taking it out on me?"

"Because Harry broke it off with her."

"And what? I didn't have anything to do with that!"

"Why would Ginny believe that? You always looked as if you were going to take his head off when they were together. And now that she knows that something is up with the three of us, it looks like Harry chose you over her."

"But that's ridiculous. I'm not even his type."

Hermione couldn't help but crack a grin. Encouraged, Ron continued, "But I suppose I do have the red hair," he quipped, shaking his head.

She laughed, and he laughed with her. "You're mad."

He reached over and caressed her cheek. "It had just been so long since I'd heard you laugh."

His hand dropped as he heard his mother's approaching footsteps, and Hermione applied herself to the task of tying the last few bundles and arranging them in the basket.

"Ron, dear, could you hang these tablecloths out on the line to dry?" His mother handed him a large, overflowing basket.

He rolled his eyes, and Hermione smiled at him sympathetically. "Just give Ginny time," Hermione advised. "You might even try talking to her."

Ron grunted his reply as he elbowed the door open.

That night, Ron was quiet at supper, and finally slipped out the back door before pudding. After helping to wash up, Hermione went into the garden with a dish of trifle. She found him in the orchard, flying in that way that she knew he was burning off anger and aggression. She sat on the fence and patiently waited; admiring the view, contemplating that that boy who once saved her from the troll was now more man than boy. His shoulders had become quite broad, and he was filling out, becoming more muscular, and losing the gawky lankiness he'd once had.

Finally, he swept down and landed not far from her, hurt and anger still burning in his eyes. He looked at her curiously, surprised to find her there. She offered the bowl. "I knew it was one of your favourites, so I saved you some."

He hesitantly took the bowl from her. He was still angry, but not with her, and he was trying to be careful not to let his aggression bubble over toward her as he'd let happen before. He sighed and slumped against a nearby tree. "Thanks."

She sat playing with a twig, while he ate his dessert. She took the bowl from him, retrieved her wand from her pocket, and banished the dish to the kitchen. Then she sat down beside him. He remained stiff, but softened somewhat when she placed her hand on his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighed and blew his fringe from his eyes, looking up through the branches of the plum tree. "I took your advice and talked to Ginny."

"And you didn't like what she had to say."

"That prat who's supposed to be our best mate broke her heart."

She sighed. "I know. But I think he did it for the right reasons."

He looked at her incredulously. "Think about it, Ron, here we are, heading off God knows where, who knows if we're even coming back. And Harry can't have Ginny out there, he can't be worrying about her that way. Dumbledore was very specific with Harry about who he could tell. If Harry and Ginny were still together, she'd find a way to follow us."

"I suppose she would," admitted Ron.

"He broke things off with her to keep her safe, but also, I think, so he has something, someone to come back to."

Ron turned to her and grabbed her hands. "I don't want anything to happen to Ginny. I don't want anything to happen to you, either, Hermione."

She returned his tender glance until he continued. "Couldn't you stay back here? Perhaps we could rig some kind of mirror system like Sirius and Lupin and Harry's dad used to use. She scowled at him and pulled her hands away.

"I'm not staying behind, Ronald. Dumbledore told Harry to tell me about the horcruxes because I'm supposed to help him destroy them, same as you."

Ron sighed and leaned back against the tree trunk, looking up at the stars that were starting to appear in the darkening sky. He didn't want to fight with her, and knew that's what would happen if he continued down that path. He reached forward and eased her back so that her head was resting on his chest. He stroked his fingers through her hair while they gazed at the sky in silence.

It was Hermione who finally spoke. "You know he's going to try to talk us out of going, too."

"But why would Dumbledore tell him to tell us, except that we're meant to help him?"

"I know, but this is Harry."

"Well, if I can get past telling mum that we're dropping out of school and going off with Harry, I suppose I'll deal with him, no problem. If I have to, I'll punch his lights out. It would feel good after what he's done to my baby sister."

"When are you going to tell them?"

"I've been putting it off."

"I noticed," she observed wryly.

"I suppose I need to before the wedding."

"Harry's going to want to leave right after, so yes, before the wedding would be good. Probably before Harry gets here. If not, they may team up and try to stop us from going with him."

"I guess I could tell them tomorrow. Maybe it's best to get it over with."

She sat up and turned to look at him. She saw the worry in his eyes, and placed her hand on his cheek, feeling a hint of stubble. "It'll be ok," she assured him.

He started to protest until he remembered what she'd done that morning to her own parents. He nodded. They gazed now into one another's eyes, each reluctant to be the one to break the moment. Ron started to lean toward Hermione when there was a crash and two figures were flying over the fence.

"What have we here, Georgie?"

"Let's see," replied George, "it looks to me like ickle Ronniekins has got himself a girlfriend."

"Ooh," Fred crowed. "Ronnie's got a girlfriend, Ronnie's got a girlfriend," he sang.

"Bugger off, the both of you," Ron blushed, but Hermione noted that he didn't contradict them.

"Funny thing, Granger," Fred addressed Hermione. "I thought you were supposed to be the smartest witch of our age."

"She is," defended Ron.

"Then you'd think she'd have the sense to wind up with someone other than you," observed his brother.

All of Ron's anger from earlier in the evening welled up, elated for an outlet as he swung first at one twin and then the other. They hopped back on their broomsticks and hovered just out of range, picking up their singsong before disappearing on the spot as Ron swore at them.

"They're just being Fred and George," Hermione soothed.

Ron continued to grumble as he took Hermione's hand and they walked slowly back to the house.

Soon after they returned to the house, Hermione excused herself to go up to bed. It had been a long day. It hardly seemed possible that it was just this morning that she shared a cup of tea with her parents before performing a memory charm on them and seeing them off to Australia. She teared up a bit at the thought of it. As she dressed for bed, her thoughts were on Ron. Two weeks' absence from him had made her realize how much she depended on him. It had been a rough year for the both of them. Not the first time a row had lasted that long, but as the years went on; they seemed to need each other more. Being away and then seeing him again accentuated how much he'd changed. Not just the physical changes she'd appreciated in the orchard, but in some of his actions, too. Sure, he could still be an insensitive git, but some of the time, most of the time, he wasn't. And that way he kept looking at her, the way he touched her …

Hermione's reverie was interrupted by the arrival of Ginny. She, too, got ready for bed, and Hermione put out the lights before setting her wand on the bedside table. After a while, she heard a question coming from the other bed.

"Do you think he's all right?"

"Other than bored and going stir crazy, I'm sure he's fine."

"He hates it there. I made him tell me about it. It sounds awful."

"But he promised Dumbledore that he'd go. That he'd take the protection while he could."

"What else did he promise Dumbledore?"

Hermione was taken aback by the question. She knew that Ginny usually knew more than she let on. Hermione was quiet as she decided how much to tell. Ron was going to tell his parents tomorrow, anyway. "Dumbledore asked Harry and Ron and I to do something. We're going to have to go away. We don't know how long it will take."

"It's something dangerous, isn't it?"

"It will be more dangerous if Voldemort or his Death Eaters find out."

"I'm coming with you."

"Ginny, you can't."

"I can take care of myself."

"It's not that, you're brilliant, but Harry really does need you here. Just hear me out. There's a chance that we might not come back. Especially Harry. But I think that if he has something anchoring him, something or someone to come back to … well, he's more likely to come back at all."

"But you and Ron on the other hand,"

"Ron and I have parents, families to come back to."

"What if something happened to him, to Harry, what would you do?"

"It would … it would kill me, but I'd come back and find my parents."

There was a troubled silence from across the room. "Just what is it you lot are planning to do?"

"I … I can't tell you any more, Ginny. I'm sorry."

With a frustrated sigh, she changed the subject.

"What's with you and my brother, anyway?"

"What do you mean? What are you on about, Ginny?"

"Oh, I get it; you're not going to betray anything to his little sister."

"It's not like that, Ginny. I don't think of you that way."

"I know. Sorry. That wasn't fair. But back to you and my brother," Ginny turned over, eager for a juicy bit of gossip. "Are you two together?"

"I don't know. He hasn't asked or anything. But I don't think we're exactly _not_ together, either." Hermione sighed.

"Do you want to be with him?"

"Yes," Hermione shyly squeaked.

"What about Viktor?"

"What about him?"

"Well, from the way Ron talks, it sounds like he's still afraid of stepping into the centre of something there."

"Viktor was never more than a friend to me. Sure, there was that one kiss. And Viktor even said things … things that suggested that there could be more. I've told Ron and Harry that time and again. I didn't think Ron believed me. But…"

Ginny waited. "But…"

"It's always been Ron. Since … I don't even know when. The troll? Helping Neville find his toad on the train? Does that sound ridiculous?"

"No more than my knowing that it was Harry when I read that book when I was four. I didn't even meet him for six more years, even though he wouldn't give me the time of day until this year, but I've always known."

They silently contemplated for a while.

"We're an odd lot, the four of us," Ginny observed. "Harry and his noble intentions, Ron in his jealousy. They're both so ridiculous, aren't they?"

Hermione giggled. "I suppose they are. And yet we love them both."

"Promise me something, Hermione."

"Of course. What?"

"Take care of them, will you?"

"I'll do everything … everything I can to bring them both back here when this is all over."

"Psst. Hermione!"

She looked up from the basket of linens she was putting away in the closet to the next landing, where Ron was pulling down the attic stairs.

"What?" She whispered back.

"C'mere a minute."

"What is it, Ronald? Your mother is expecting me back in the kitchen."

"I want to show you something." He climbed the ladder to the attic, and reached down to help her up. "My plan for when we go away."

"You were supposed to tell your parents this morning."

"I know," he rolled his eyes. "But I had to finish this … to show them. But I wanted to show you first."

"Ugh, what did you kill up here?" She retched at the odour emanating from every corner of the attic.

"Sorry," he said, handing her a handkerchief, which she noticed was soaked in his cologne. She gratefully placed it over her nose and mouth while he continued. "I know the smell is bloody awful, but that's part of my plan, you see."

He kept hold of her hand, and led her over to the corner of the attic, where something white and green and purple lay in a heap. As she got closer, she recognized it as the family ghoul in a pair of old pyjamas. "Ron! You didn't."

"I asked him first, Hermione. He's quite looking forward to sleeping below stairs and to sampling mum's cooking."

"What have you done to him?"

"Fred and George gave me a potion that makes it look like he has spattergroit. He's going to be me, so no one suspects anything when I don't show up at school." He turned to the ghoul and muttered an incantation. A mop of red hair spread from the crown of the ghoul's head.

Hermione looked on in amazement. "Well, if he's agreed," she looked to the ghoul, who nodded enthusiastically, "this is absolutely brilliant, Ron. Where did you get the idea?"

"I thought it up myself. As I said, I had Fred and George's help with the pustules. But they're always eager to try out new products."

She looked at him in amazement. He looked crestfallen and pulled away from her and hurried down the stairs, closing the door to his room behind him. Hermione followed, closing the attic door as she knocked on his door. There was no answer. After a moment, she went in and sat on the camp bed where Harry usually slept and looked at the miserable form on the bed. "Ron, what is it?"

"Nothing I shouldn't be used to by now, I suppose," he spat bitterly. "You're the clever one, Harry's the brave one, and I'm just here taking up space."

"Ron."

"No, it's true, Hermione. Why else would you have had that look of disbelief on your face when I told you the idea for the ghoul was mine."

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant at all. It's just so perfect, everyone will think that you're home, and"

"And it's too brilliant an idea to come from the likes of me." He rolled to face away from her.

"Ron, that's not true." Hermione moved to the edge of his bed.

"Ron," he flinched as she placed her hand on his back. "You're a brilliant wizard. You're clever and brave and wonderful and I adore you. All you lack is a bit of confidence, really."

"Ron? Hermione?"

"That would be your mum. I'll go head her off for a while." She kissed the back of his head before she got up and closed the door behind her.


	2. The Order Meeting

The next day passed in awkward silence between the two of them. It wasn't until the next night, as they sat in Ginny's room, waiting for the Order meeting to be over that they spoke at all.

Ron was sitting in Ginny's desk chair, Ginny was lying on her bed, and Hermione was sorting a great pile of what looked like camping implements.

"So where are you going that you need all THAT stuff?" Ginny's innate curiosity was rearing its head in spite of herself.

"I don't know. I figure it can't hurt to be prepared." Hermione shrank three sleeping bags and checked them off of her parchment list that rivalled the one that Mrs. Weasley was keeping for the wedding.

Ron crossed the room and plunked down on Hermione's camp bed, earning a raised eyebrow, though she didn't stop packing. He spoke in undertones, to which the girls rolled their eyes. "I think the meeting is about going to get him."

"His birthday is in a week." Hermione agreed.

There was a knock on the door, and Ron and Ginny's dad opened it. "Hermione, Ron? Could we see you downstairs for a moment?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Sure, Mr. Weasley." He escorted her downstairs.

Bill stood behind, ready to escort Ron; instead he found himself restraining his sister. "Not you, squirt."

"I'm not a child, Bill."

"I realize that Gin. But the fact is, you're not of age for another what? Thirteen months. So sorry, you're out."

She huffed as he cast a shielding charm on her door. "Like that's going to keep me out."

One swish of her wand, and she was in the hallway.

Bill raised a brow. "Impressive. But it's still a no-go. Mum's down there and she'd kill me. Go on down, Ron."

Hermione entered the surprisingly crowded kitchen. She nodded greetings to Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, and Professor McGonnagall.

It was several moments before Ron joined them. He stood close behind her.

"What took you so long?" The question came from George, who was leaning against the mantel.

"Ginny." That one word earned appreciative nods from his brothers, and an exchanged look between their parents before Molly emitted an exasperated huff, excused herself, and trouped up the stairs.

"Anyway," started Kingsley Shacklebolt, from his place at the head of the table, where he was apparently chairing the meeting, "back to our plan. As you know, Harry comes of age a week from today, and at that time, the blood protection of his aunt's house is lifted."

Kingsley went on to outline the Order's plan to retrieve Harry. "So, we're looking for volunteers. Volunteers must be of age, because there are definitely inherent risks to disguising yourself or being seen with Voldemort and the ministry's most wanted person."

"The ministry?" Hermione breathed.

"Unfortunately, yes." McGonnagall confirmed. "Outside of the Order, we must all be careful who we trust."

Ron reached a hand to Hermione's shoulder to steady her as she swayed. She took a deep breath, summoning her Gryffindor courage. "I'm in."

"But you're bollocks on a broom," her best friend piped up behind her.

"Thank you, Ronald, for that assessment of my skill."

"Just pointing out the obvious."

She scowled at him.

"We won't all be travelling by broom," Arthur explained.

Hagrid piped in, "I've got some thestrals available, and I know where Dumbledore hid Sirius' old bike."

"Very well," concluded Kingsley. So those up for this detail, sign in here. We need 6 doppelgangers, 7 flying escorts, and 2 escorts for Lily's sister and her family. You all have your assignments as far as warding order homes? Let's get to it, people."

Ron and Hermione signed in with the others, excited to finally get to participate in an Order mission instead of sitting in the dark. Hermione did feel a pang of sympathy toward Ginny, who apparently had been somehow restrained in her room by her mother.

Supper was a quieter than usual affair after the break-up of the meeting as everyone apparently was anxious to attend to their assignments. That, and Ginny was making a point not to talk to anyone, Ron and Hermione had lapsed into their previous silence, and the twins had begged off to meet school friends and Bill and Fleur had taken off to France to finalize wedding plans with her parents. So that left Arthur and Molly to make polite conversation across their youngest children and their friend.

"Well, it won't be long and those letters from school should be arriving, shouldn't they?" Molly tried to engage the three in conversation.

"Um, actually, mum." Ron cleared his throat, and the girls looked at him. "We're not going back."

"What do you mean, not going back, of course you're going back."

"No, I'm not." Ron was more forceful than he'd intended, but he continued. "Before he died, Dumbledore gave Harry a mission. He told him he could only tell Hermione and me, and that we couldn't tell anyone else."

"But Dumbledore's gone now." Ron's father pointed out.

Ron nodded. "Yes, and that leaves it to us to complete this mission."

"The Order would be happy to help."

"I'm sure they would, but Dumbledore told Harry specifically that this needed to be him."

"Surely, he didn't mean …" his mother covered her mouth, horrified.

"He did, mum."

"Well, as your father said, Dumbledore's gone. So the secrecy of this so called mission"

"Is even more important, mum." Ron broke in and stood up. "As it was pointed out this evening, I'm of age now. I can make my own decisions, and I've decided to go and help Harry." He stormed out the back door into the night.

Hermione looked after him.

"Surely, Hermione, dear, you want to finish school, don't you?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "But," she added emphatically, "if we don't do this, there may not be a school to finish. And as a Muggle-born, my chances of being allowed to finish are slipping unless we do what we can to stop this."

She looked at the door. "I'll go bring him in now."

"Right, dear, can't be too careful," Arthur Weasley nodded at her.

Hermione walked out into the garden, stopping as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark. She saw his tall silhouette over near the wall, where he'd found her. She silently went to him and rested her head on his back, wrapping her arms around him.

She could tell by the tension in his body that he was trying not to cry.

After a while, with a big sigh, he untangled her arms from her middle, but laced one of his hands in hers. "Actually, I suppose it could have been a lot worse than that."

She nodded. "Could have."

"There wasn't really any yelling. When Charlie went to Romania … and then when Fred and George left school …"

"Overall, I think they took it well. Hermione stepped back against the fence, and awkwardly started to perch on the top rail.

When Ron realized what she was doing, he grasped her waist and lifted her, leaving his hands around her middle. He looked down at her. "I just hate always being a disappointment to them."

"Why would you be? You're prefect, you're on the quidditch team, you pull in decent marks, including a respectable number of O.W.L.s, I don't hear them complaining about anything except the state of your room."

"But I'm not Head Boy … I'm not going back, but even if I were, it's not bloody likely. And I'm not captain of the quidditch team. My marks are ok, but not spectacular. I'm mediocre at everything … and after Bill and Charlie and Percy and even Fred and George …"

"What about what you did when Hogwarts was attacked, and in the Department of Mysteries. Not to mention helping Harry get through the chess game first year, solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and help save your sister second year, not to mention all of the other times … Ron, none of your brothers ever did any of that."

"I suppose not." A small smile crept onto his face.

She reached up and stroked his face. "You know something, Ron Weasley?"

"What?"

"You're my hero."

He looked at her with abject disbelief.

"No, really, ever since first year and the troll, you've been my hero."

"What about Harry?"

"Harry, well, trouble just seems to find Harry. But you're the one who always goes charging in after him, after me, when we're in danger. It's you who are my knight in shining armour." She stroked his cheek fondly.

"Hermione…" he stroked his hands gently up and down her sides, eliciting a shiver from her.

"Yes, Ron?"

"I know now's not the time, with a war on and all and us needing to be focused on helping Harry with the horcruxes … but do you think that maybe after … after everything with that is settled, that you and I … that we might…"

"Might what?"

He sighed. "Ok, I know we fight a lot and all, but the only reason I fight with you so much is because I care. I care a lot. I know sometimes things don't come out right, and I think I've honed mucking things up between us to a fine art."

She chuckled. "I don't think you have a monopoly on that," she added seriously.

"So I guess what I'm saying is you're one of my best friends, and right now for Harry's sake, I know he needs for us to be there for him … as friends. But after … I'd like to try … to try to be more than just friends."

She looked up at him, eyes shining. "I'd like that too."

He swept her up off of the fence into a fierce hug.

They walked hand in hand back to the Burrow. His parents and sister had apparently retired for the night, though the kitchen light was left burning. He stopped her at the door to Ginny's room, and kissed her on the forehead. "Good night."

"Good night." She beamed up at him. He responded with a goofy lopsided grin as he continued up the stairs to his own room.

"Have a good snog?" Ginny had been waiting up to interrogate her, and was now propped up on her elbows.

"No." Hermione continued getting ready for bed.

"No? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then what were you two doing out there? You're got to tell me. I told you all about Harry … and Dean … and Michael."

"And you grossly exaggerated what I told you about Viktor … and to Harry and Ron, too."

"I'm sorry." Ginny was emphatically contrite. "I promise I'll never do that again. Besides, this is my brother." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"And you have four other brothers who would love to harass him and take the mick."

"Ok, I swear I won't tell anyone. So what were you doing out there?"

"Talking." She looked at her friend's sceptical glance. "Really. Talking. Verbal conversation. Truly, that's all we did."

"So, are you two together now?"

"Yes and no."

"Still? My brother is such a prat. Why doesn't he just get on with it already?"

"It's ok, Ginny. We need to be focused on helping Harry right now. We don't need any … distractions." Hermione almost giggled. "We did reach kind of an understanding though. That after all of this is over, that we'll give it a try." She collapsed back on the bed with a silly grin on her face.

"You're mental, the both of you. You know that don't you?"

Hermione did giggle at that. Ginny stared in wonder at her friend. "It's just Ron, you know?"

"My hero," Hermione whispered, as she rolled over and fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	3. Training

Ron was awakened by a sudden weight on top of him, followed by the swift removal of his blankets. "Rise and shine, little brother," Fred crowed.

"Buggering … what are you on about, waking a bloke this way, you bastard?" Ron replied.

"What, are you questioning our dear mother's honor?" George retorted.

Ron glared at his brothers as he snatched his blankets back.

"Fred! George! Get down here and help me with this breakfast!" Mum to the rescue. "Ron, hurry, Remus and Tonks will be here in ten minutes."

Ron perked up a bit as his brothers trudged obediently down the stairs. He'd forgotten the events of last night. In the light of a new day, he was feeling empowered to be in a position to be able to do something towards Harry's fate. His anger at his best mate's disregard of his sister's feelings had faded. Hermione was right, as usual, not that he was eager to admit that to her. Hermione. Just the thought of her brought back that goofy smile for a moment.

"Ronald!" His mother's voice broke into his reverie.

"I'll be there in a minute, Mum." Ron threw off the blanket and shrugged on a discarded orange t-shirt and a pair of denims that was about two inches too short, and beginning to get a bit tight as well. He meant to have his mother use an adjustment spell to alter them, but kept forgetting.

In the kitchen, he scooted into his place at the table. His eyes met Hermione's, and she shyly smiled back. He stabbed some sausages with his fork, and bit in to one. "'Anks Mum zeze're good," he turned to compliment his mother.

"Ronald, not with your mouth full," she chided, yet glowed a bit with her youngest son's compliment. "Now, hurry, they'll be here any minute."

Before she had even finished her statement, the Floo roared to life, and Remus Lupin appeared in the kitchen. He stepped aside as he brushed himself off, he then turned in time to catch Tonks before she tumbled into the table as she fell out of the fireplace. Their eyes met, and they were suddenly oblivious to the rest of the room. Just as they gravitated closer to one another, they were interrupted by the twins' retching noises.

"Real mature," observed Ginny. "I'll be shocked if either of them ever gets married."

Hermione chuckled.

Tonks set about straightening out her training robes.

"Right, then," began Remus, "Are you lot ready to begin?"

"Fleur isn't here yet, but why don't you start with the rest in the garden, and I'll send her along. I have a few wedding details to discuss with her first."

Tonks had her trainees completely out of breath and sweating, just 15 minutes into her warmup session. Hermione was seriously lagging behind the boys on their run down to the pond and back. At some point on the return, Ron noticed this and started to slow to match her pace.

"Get a move on, Ron, I know you can go faster than that," Tonks reprimanded.

"But Hermione …" He began.

"You let me worry about Hermione, you get your arse in gear!" Tonks sent a light zap from her wand to Ron's heels.

Hermione struggled to keep up. Her face was red, her hair, if possible, unrulier than ever. "Just keep at it, luv, you're doing fine," Tonks encouraged once Ron was out of earshot.

The boys were collapsed in a heap, and Fleur was stretching while chatting with Remus by the time Hermione and Tonks made it back to the house.

Remus lined them up and demonstrated a few spells, designed to disarm and stun one's opponent. He then paired up the trainees – Hermione with Fleur, George with Ron, and Tonks worked with Fred. It took Ron a few tries to master the new spells, but when he did, he took great pleasure in being able to knock his brother on his tail most of the times he tried. They then switched partners, and Ron surprised Fred by sending him halfway to the garden wall. After that, Fred was harder to catch, but Ron's confidence was growing. Another trade, and Tonks helped him perfect a few of his movements and gave him a few tricks to be able to cast the spells silently. These proved helpful, as the next partner he faced was Fleur. She was his toughest opposition yet, but he did manage to disarm her twice, which he was proud of, considering that she sent a hex that had stung him pretty hard on her first attempt. She quickly cast a counter-curse, which neutralized some of the pain, but some still remained. Lastly, he faced Hermione.

"Come on, Ron, you're not even trying," she complained as she once again crossed to hand him his wand.

"I am," he protested.

"No. You're not," she fumed. "How am I supposed to learn this if I don't have something to fight against? Stop holding back on me."

"I'm not."

"I saw what you did to George, to Fred, you even got Tonks and Fleur a couple of times."

"I only got Tonks once."

"Well, she's an Auror, and we're supposed to be nearly a year short of sitting our N.E.W.T.s." Hermione looked a bit wistful at her last statement.

"I just … I don't want to hurt you." Ron looked away, out over the garden wall.

"While I'm sure she's grateful for your chivalry, Ron, now is not the time." Remus had approached them. "The Death Eaters you are likely to face will not be so considerate, I promise."

"He's right, Ron," Hermione agreed. "I have to be able to cast these spells under pain – perhaps a lot more pain than any of this training will invoke. I have to be ready."

Ron blanched. He looked at Hermione. "I don't know if I can …"

"YOU can, Ron … you already have. Going back to when we were only twelve and you masterminded that whole chess game in spite of …"

"No, that's not what I mean, Hermione." Grabbed her arm and interrupted her. "I don't know if I can watch you … or Harry," he added, "or YOU," he continued meaningfully, "be under that kind of …"

"We may not have a choice, Ron," she reminded him. "I wish it wouldn't come to that, but the fact is, we both know that's unlikely. It may happen. If not on this mission, then…" She was conscious that they were decidedly not alone, and left the rest for him to fill in.

"Very well," Remus addressed the group at large. "Hermione has brought up a good point. In order to protect yourself, you may need to be able to cast these spells under pain. So, for our next drill, I want the attacker to start with a stinging hex. The defender is not to block the first one, but is to try to block any subsequent hexes while disarming their opponent. We'll now demonstrate. Tonks?"

Tonks nodded and moved to the front of the group. She nodded, and Lupin sent a hex her way, followed closely by a second, which she easily parried, and countered by sending him flying across the lawn.

"Nymphadora, what the …" Remus sputtered, half in outrage, half in awe.

She walked over to him and offered her hand. "Really, Remus, what were you saying about holding back?" She rolled her eyes as she helped him up, and the girls snickered a bit as he dusted himself off. The boys all wore identical looks of awe and a bit of fear.

After that, as if in fear of Tonks, Ron completed the task with alacrity. In the end, Ron and Hermione were fairly evenly matched in their spell work. They sat together under a tree during their lunch break, as Bill had come home for lunch, Remus and Tonks were supposedly discussing lesson plans for the afternoon, and the twins had their heads together about something or other that the rest of the group were pretty sure they did not want to know about.

Hermione finished her sandwich and leaned back against the tree, weary from the morning's exertions.

"Alright, Hermione?" He worked on finishing his last sandwich.

She nodded unconvincingly.

He placed his hand on her arm. "You're exhausted. Maybe you should just…"

"No, Ron, I can't," she protested, covering his hand with her own. "I need to do this. We have no idea what we're up against out there, what we might be facing, and I have to be able to hold my own. I can't guarantee that I'll always have you or Harry to protect me."

"But I'd never leave you, I promise."

"Perhaps not willingly, but we don't know what will happen when we're out on our own. We might all get separated. Some of us might…"

"Do NOT go there Hermione."

"Fine, I won't. But you know as well as I that it is a possibility. A real possibility. I need to be prepared, need to defend myself as best I can if that happens." The pain in both of their eyes as their gazes met was more searing than any of the stunners they had been throwing that morning.

"Fine. But know that I would never willingly leave you. Or Harry," he added.

She nodded and looked at him lovingly, longingly. "I know that. But you know me. I need to be prepared."

He smiled at this, and stood and helped her to her feet so that they could join the group that was gathering near the house.

"So," Tonks began. "This afternoon, we will work on aerial combat skills." She led the group toward the broom shed by the orchard and handed out brooms. Hermione blanched.

"You ok?" Ron asked.

Hermione didn't respond. Tonks divided them into attackers and defenders. They were back to their original partners. Ron and George took off and were first to demonstrate the drill. Fred sidled up to Hermione.

"It will be ok, Hermione," Fred coaxed. "Just gently push off." That's it. Now point the handle up. There you go. By the time Tonks and Fleur had decided to go ahead and had finished the drill, Fred had Hermione shakily skimming the tops of the apple trees.

"Right, then, you two, to the drill, Hermione, you be the attacker," Tonks ordered.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"You can't be serious," Ron protested.

"No, Sirius was my cousin," Tonks snapped cheekily, "now off you go."

Hermione got through the first three manoeuvres before falling off of the broom. Tonks caught her with a cushioning charm, and sent Fleur up to challenge her future brother-in-law.

George handed Hermione her broom and led her back to the clearing. "Alright then, back up you go."

His coaxing was met with a look of horror from his pupil. "I can't," she protested.

"You need to Hermione. Granted, you won't be on a broom when we go, but you will be flying on something." He paused for a moment to let the logic of what he was saying digest.

"Leave her alone," Ron angrily protested to his brother.

Hermione looked for a moment like she wished that George would obey her best friend's remonstrations. But then the logic of George's words overtook her, and she determinedly kicked off of the ground. Her flying was still shaky. George quickly broke the glare that he and his brother had been locked in and followed her, steadying her broom and offering pointers.

At the end of the day, the group that gathered in the Burrow's kitchen was sore, exhausted, but triumphant in what they had accomplished in that day's session. Bill arrived to escort Fleur home, and Remus and Tonks made excuses and left before dinner. The twins left shortly afterward, which left Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione and a very irritated Ginny. The elder Weasleys soon left for the evening on Order business, leaving the three young people to themselves.

"I should continue packing," Hermione said, not making any move to rouse herself from the armchair in the lounge and do so.

"What more could you possibly have to pack?" her almost-boyfriend asked in awe.

"I could at least help with that part, couldn't I?" his sister offered.

"Would you, Gin? That would help an awful lot. Between training and the wedding, I don't know how I'm going to get everything done."

"Do you think he's going to want to leave soon?" Ginny was almost wistful.

Hermione nodded. "Our guess is right after the wedding."

Ginny sighed. "I might as well help you pack, since Mum won't even let me watch the training."

"You're not of age," Ron observed unnecessarily.

"I know that." Ginny rolled her eyes. "I know I can't go to get Harry. And my having the trace could compromise … whatever it is you lot are off to do."

"That's a bloody shame," Hermione remarked.

"Hermione!" Ron was horrified.

"What? It's true. Her spellwork is wicked brilliant, you know it. She could be a real asset if it weren't for that blooming trace."

"Language, Hermione," Ron was still in shock.

"Bugger language, Ron. It's not like you've never heard a bad word before. This situation is just bollocks and I'm so brassed off that I'm about to go mad."

Ginny sputtered and then burst out laughing. The others looked flummoxed at her reaction before joining her. "I'm sorry." She tried to apologise with tears running down her cheeks. "It's just Hermione, of all people, cursing like a sailor. It's … it's…" She dissolved into yet another fit of laughter.

They passed a pleasant evening until finally Ron poked at his sister. "Three's a crowd, Gin."

"Then go to bed," she retorted cheekily. But she got up and headed to the stairs. "Cheers," she winked at Hermione as she headed up the stairs.

Ron resituated himself next to Hermione on the floor. "So, it's been quite a day, hasn't it?"

"That it has," Hermione agreed. She tried to prop herself up. "Um, Ron?"

"Mmm?" He was watching the flames dance in the fireplace.

"I can't move."

He looked down at her, realization dawning. "Oh, it happens when you haven't worked out like that. Hold on, mum has something for it in the kitchen." He disappeared, and returned in a moment with a pot of glowing, purple goo. He rubbed it in to her arms and legs, and then carefully worked some under her shirt, across her shoulders and back. "This should help."

"Thanks." She propped herself up as she had been trying to do.

He leaned down closer to her, just as the front door handle rattled. He sat back up with alacrity.

"Oh, there you are, dears," his mother greeted them. "I would have thought that after the routine that Remus and Tonks had put you through, you'd be long to bed by now."

"We were just headed that way, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione stated. "I was sore from all of the training, and Ron had just finished fixing that." Ron held up the jar.

"Oh, good, I'm glad he knew what to do. Well, training will start in the morning again, so off to bed with the both of you."

Over the next few days, Remus and Tonks continued their gruelling regimen, assisted from time to time by Kingsley or other order members. In the evenings, Ron and Hermione tried to steal a few moments to themselves, but often gave in to exhaustion. Finally, it was the last night before their mission, and Kingsley had pronounced their training for their task adequate and let them go an hour early. After dinner, Ron and Hermione wandered out for a walk in the summer twilight.

"So, tomorrow is it," Ron declared.

"Yes, tomorrow," Hermione agreed.

"It will be good to see Harry again," Ron commented.

"It will be. I hope that his relatives haven't been too horrid to him."

"You know that they probably have, but you also know that Harry won't tell us anything about it."

"I suppose you're right."

"Hermione, are you scared?"

"About tomorrow?"

"About tomorrow, about … after… about it all."

"I'm terrified," she admitted.

"How do you seem so confident all of the time, then?"

"Do I?"

"Of course you do. You always seem to have all the answers, you're so determined to succeed. Hell, you're not even half bad on a broom anymore."

"Language, Ron," she chided, causing both of them to break out into laughter. "The whole flying thing has me petrified," she responded honestly. "I don't have all the answers, Ron. You of all people know that. But sometimes acting as though I did is how I deal with all of … this."

"How about one more flying lesson?" he suggested. All of his brothers had been fairly attentive to making sure Hermione gained confidence in the air, and though he tried not to show it, Ron could admit, at least to himself, that it made him more than a bit jealous. He suspected that the twins knew this, and that was why they continued working with her. But he had to admit, their calm way of working with her had helped her progress.

"But it's dark," Hermione protested.

"It will be dark tomorrow night," Ron reminded her.

Hermione gulped and blanched.

"Hey." Ron took her hand gently. "It's going to be ok, Hermione."

"I know," she conceded, "but I still hate flying."

"Come on, now, I won't let you fall." He handed her his broom.

She mounted it, and he surprised her by hopping on behind her.

"Go on," he coaxed, "push off."

She did, and he reached around her and brought the handle up higher, urged the broom to pick up a little more speed.

"Ron," she protested as he manoeuvred the broom higher than she'd ever flown herself.

"It's ok, I've got you." He tightened his other arm securely around her waist.

She leaned back into him, and began to allow herself to relax. The stars were so bright and seemed a little closer. Ron's warmth wrapped around her counteracted the breeze. Speeding through the sky like this, with him, was exhilarating. She relished the closeness, and could tell that he was enjoying that aspect as well. She was almost disappointed when he landed.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, it wasn't." She reached up and hugged him, then pulled away a bit. Their eyes locked. Someone nearby cleared his throat.

"Mum asked me to come find you, you know how she gets when anyone is out at night these days," Bill seemed a bit embarrassed to have interrupted.

Ron sighed. He reached for Hermione's hand, laced their fingers for a moment, then released them, and followed his brother back to the house.

The next day was a flurry of preparation for the night's mission. Order members were coming and going, busy with their own parts of the plan. They were still hoping that the element of surprise of moving the whole operation a few days early would catch the Death Eaters off of their guard and allow for a clean escape.

The decoys were gathered in the back garden while the escorts went through a final briefing. Tonks and Fleur were discussing weddings, the twins were bemoaning the fact that Kingsley didn't see the need for any of their Wheezes in this particular (or any Order) mission. Ron and Hermione had moved to their spot on the wall, where they sat side by side, waiting.

"So, this is it," Hermione blew a stray hair out of her face.

"You've gotten rid of any of Crookshanks' hairs?"

"Why?"

"Polyjuice Potion."

She made a half-hearted attempt to push him over the wall. "That's not funny."

"Yes it is."

"Fine. So maybe a little." A smile escaped.

Ron brushed back a curl to see it better. She turned to him, and he saw the terror in her eyes.

"It's OK, luv. It's going to be ok." The terror in his own eyes, the fear of losing her, was all too apparent for his reassurances to be convincing.

"Oh, Ron, I…"

"I know. Me, too."

"Ok, everybody circle up," Kingsley's voice boomed as the back door slammed.

Ron helped Hermione down. "Come on," he told her. "Let's go get Harry."


End file.
